


See Which Way the Wind Will Blow

by Willowe



Series: automaton!AU [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, added Ham's POV in ch2, automaton Hamilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5934922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowe/pseuds/Willowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Burr doesn’t understand Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after "Dying is Easy (Living is Harder)", though I suppose you could read it on it's own if you wanted.
> 
> This wasn't the story I originally wanted to post next, but it seemed fitting considering today is Burr's 260th birthday (burrthday?).

Aaron Burr doesn’t understand Hamilton.

Technically, he supposes, no one does, save for the man who created him. And Aaron has no desire to understand the mechanics of Hamilton, though he knows it’s a subject that fascinates many of their fellow soldiers. But the way they talk about Hamilton is sickening to him; he simply can’t stomach the casual way they discuss wanting to vivisect the automaton just to see how he functions- and to ultimately get him to _stop_ functioning.

Aaron doesn’t need to see Hamilton’s inner workings, anyway. He’s gotten more than one glimpse of the small gears inside Hamilton’s hand ever since the automaton got that cut; though Alexander is smart enough to keep it covered most of the time, there has been more than one occasion when Aaron walked into Washington’s headquarters just as Hamilton was peeling back the bandages, as if he can’t quite stop himself from examining his own mechanics. Just something else that Aaron doesn’t understand about the automaton.

Because that’s the thing about Hamilton. Aaron doesn’t care if he knows how he functions, who made him or what he has to do to keep himself alive. Aaron wants to understand Hamilton like he would understand any other man. He wants to know how he thinks and why he does the things he does- and yes, how Hamilton’s status as an automaton influences his decisions.

He wants to know how Hamilton can size up an opponent so quickly, what exactly he reads in another man’s face that tells him whether it’s safe to verbally tear them apart or if he needs to be more subtle in his insults. He wants to know how Hamilton can take so much pride in working longer hours than the other aides, of pushing himself so far past human limitations (and, if rumors around camp are correct, so far past his own limitations as well), but still grit his teeth in annoyance when people are a little too blunt in their automaton comments.

Aaron knows that Hamilton wants to advance his station after the war, but he does not know if he wants to be accepted as an automaton or make himself pass as a human. Aaron watches as Hamilton’s friends pick fights with their fellow soldiers in an attempt to defend the automaton’s honor, but he doesn’t know if Hamilton is aware of this or what his reaction would be if he were to find out. Aaron doesn’t even know how Hamilton chooses his friends, what combination of traits makes a person part of the rare chosen few rather than left on the outside of that particular social circle.

Some days, Aaron doesn’t even know which side of that line he falls on.

Most days, Aaron isn’t sure which side he’d rather be on anyway.

Oh, there’s no denying that Hamilton is brilliant. Automaton or not, Aaron already knows that he is going to achieve great things after the war. He is exactly the sort of person that Aaron would do well to keep on his side, to say nothing of the genuine enjoyment he gets from debating and conversing with the other man. There are far worse people he could spend his time with, after all.

But still, Aaron can’t predict Hamilton’s actions and that makes him nervous. He does not know if Hamilton will one day push the wrong person too far, and what the result of that would be- for both himself, and the automaton. The man is a whirlwind, and Aaron does not know if it is sheer luck or incredible skill that has kept that chaos so far contained to the right side of every conversation.

So Aaron does what he does best: he waits, and he makes the most out of his situation.

He seeks out men who are indifferent to Hamilton’s presence in camp, a far larger number than one would think, if you were to judge solely by the frequency that Laurens shows up with bruised knuckles and split-lips. (Though, rumor has it that John Laurens will start a fight over even the most insignificant of perceived slights against Hamilton, and that’s a tidbit that Aaron files away for future consideration.) Aaron listens to the conversations around him, finds that while many of the soldiers are uncomfortable with an automaton in their ranks, there are only a few men who let their fear lead them to make rash threats in the open, where anyone can hear them.

Still, even an indifferent man may be moved to violence when caught up in the fervor of a mob, and Aaron has witnessed the beginnings of such an event on more than one occasion. They aren’t always about Hamilton- sometimes, men are driven to near-riots simply from the hunger-pangs in their bellies- but regardless of their cause they always die out after a few calm, rational words… or the well-timed arrival of a commanding officer.

But this particular fervor does not seem to be dying down anytime soon. Aaron has been keeping an eye on the small group of soldiers carefully for the last ten minutes or so, watching as more men join them and their quiet murmuring turns into loud, heated conversations. Aaron has no idea what Hamilton did this time to stir them up like this, but he catches fleeting references to some inspection and poor reports and well, Aaron would not be surprised if that’s all it took to anger them.

He keeps expecting an officer to stop by to disperse the crowd, but the few that walk by are fairly low-ranking and hurry past the group without saying anything. It isn’t until the disgruntled conversations turn into actual planning that Aaron realizes that he is the one who’s going to have to step in to put a stop to this.

The heated arguing over what, exactly, to do to Hamilton dies down when Aaron steps forward but he doesn’t miss the wary and mistrustful looks that are sent his way as he walks towards the man that’s more-or-less functioning as the crowd’s leader. “What are you doing here?” the soldier snaps. “This doesn’t concern you. Sir.”

Aaron is going to have to tread carefully if he wants them to see reason and disperse.

Luckily, Aaron excels at treading carefully in uneasy situations.

“Just trying to look out for the safety of my fellow soldiers,” he says, holding his hands out in an open- and hopefully calming- gesture.

“That automaton is hardly a _fellow_ soldier,” the leader sneers. “He’s getting too full of himself, thinks he’s better than us.” The men around them begin to murmur again. Burr hears someone shout about the need to _bring him down a peg_ ; he thinks he hears a quiet murmur of something far worse, but he can’t be sure.

A few of the men have moved in closer to him and Aaron’s heart is hammering in his chest, but he doesn’t let his nerves show. He can’t afford to give them an opening like that. “I was not speaking about Hamilton,” he tells them. “It was your safety I was speaking of.”

He’s met with immediate laughter from the crowd and an incredulous, “Our safety? When we greatly outnumber that thing?”

“You have not seen what he can do when truly enraged,” Aaron says. “His strength is far superior to that of any human. One blow is enough to crumple a man’s skull.”

It’s a complete exaggeration, of course. Aaron had gone to see Princeton’s bursar after his unfortunate encounter with Hamilton to help smooth things over and the man was still alive and well, save for a nearly shattered jaw. But these men don’t know that and Aaron’s words give them pause; a few of them look concerned, almost fearful, now. It shouldn’t take more than a few well-intentioned warnings to get the rest of them to back off.

“Also may I enquire as to how, precisely, are you planning on subduing him?” Aaron keeps his tone even, as if he truly was concerned about their well-being. “He has a frame of metal, so shooting him will do you no good. He feels no pain and does not bleed so blades are all but useless. If you should manage to physically subdue him- after he has killed any number of you in self-defense- you will still have Washington’s ire to contend with when the deed is done. If you go after Hamilton, you are as good as dead.”

The murmuring of the crowd is now fearful and wary. All of their confidence has disappeared, and Aaron watches with no small amount of satisfaction as some of the men in the back sneak away without saying anything else. The leader sputters, tries to come up with some argument to keep the men to stay, but one by one they all abandon the group, heads ducked and shoulders hunched. Eventually, with one last glare at Aaron, the leader storms off as well.

Only then does Aaron start to laugh, a quiet chuckle that’s partly true amusement but mostly just relief that this harebrained plan of his actually worked. There were so many ways that this could have gone wrong but it didn’t and now that the adrenaline is leaving Aaron’s system, he doesn’t know what, else to do but stand here on shaking legs and laugh, and laugh.

It’s only when he catches his breath, when his legs have stopped shaking and he finally looks up, that he realizes that he isn’t alone.

Hamilton is standing maybe a dozen paces in front of him, watching him with an unreadable expression. Aaron quickly straightens up, schools his face into a neutral expression, and waits for the automaton to say something. He has no idea how much of that Hamilton saw, and Aaron is reminded of his frustrating inability to predict how the automaton may react.

Still, he’s caught completely off-guard when Hamilton finally says, “Thank you.”

“What?” Hamilton, thanking him?

The automaton rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to make me repeat myself?”

“That’s not what I-” Aaron sighs in frustration. Why does he seem to have such a hard time talking with Hamilton? “I heard what you said. And honestly, no thanks are necessary. I only sought to keep the peace in camp, nothing more.”

Hamilton stares at him with those unnerving, unblinking glass eyes, until Aaron wants to either look away or demand that he speaks whatever is on his mind. But he doesn’t give in to either temptation, and once again forces himself to wait until Hamilton breaks the silence stretching between them first.

“I will never understand you, Burr,” Hamilton says, shaking his head. He brushes past Aaron quickly, a quiet “Sir,” the only farewell he gives.

Hamilton doesn’t understand _him_? Aaron almost wants to start laughing again at the idea. Instead he just sighs and shakes his head as well. “Well. That makes two of us then,” he murmurs, as he sets off in the opposite direction.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has nothing against Burr per se, but the man remains a riddle to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not expecting to write a second chapter for this, but VividEscapist was curious about Hamilton's reaction and I got inspired to write a small addition from his POV.

Alexander has one ear tuned into the murmurs of the crowd long before he actually sees them, the mutterings about _that damned automaton_ catching his attention as easily as if someone had shouted his name across a crowded room. It’s one of the many reasons that Alexander is grateful for his hyper-acute hearing; it lets him figure out when trouble may be coming, before that trouble manages to find him themselves.

He keeps a safe distance between himself and the growing crowd, staying close enough to easily make out the faces of the men gathered and hear what they’re saying, but far enough away that no one picks up on his presence. He recognizes a good number of the men who received warnings about their shoddy efforts during drill earlier in the day, and he can’t say that he’s surprised that that was enough to set them enough. He’s seen aides become infuriated simply because Washington chose him to carrying out a task instead of them, and he knows that Laurens has gotten into physical altercations with other soldiers over even less.

The smart thing to do would be to warn Washington or one of the other generals, perhaps Lafayette, that this group of men may cause problems in the future. And Hamilton certainly will give them a tip about that… eventually. But he doesn’t want to go running to them now, doesn’t want them to solve his problems for him even though it doesn’t look like anyone else passing by is making an effort to calm down the group. Alexander makes note of every low-ranking officer that scurries by without a word, and resolves to keep an eye on them in the future.

Alexander doesn’t even consider stepping in himself. He knows what this mob would try to do to him- what they would succeed in doing to him, unless he used extreme force to stop them and then where would that leave him? Executed anyway, decommissioned and dead, body thrown aside somewhere to rust in the elements or be picked apart for scrap metal, just like what happened to his brother…

But surely it’s only a matter of time until someone steps in to stop this crowd before they try to hunt Alexander down themselves. Surely, in a camp of thousands, someone must be willing to be the voice of reason.

_Surely, there must be someone who cares,_ Alexander thinks, despite a lifetime of evidence to the contrary.

The heated conversations die down suddenly and between the shifting bodies Alexander can just glimpse a newcomer stepping forward to speak to the crowd’s de facto leader. He thinks he must be seeing things at first, because there’s no way that this would be the only person to try to intervene, but when he looks again he finds that his eyes aren’t failing him now.

That most certainly is Aaron Burr, standing in the crowd of men with hands held out in a non-threatening gesture, talking about looking out for the safety of his fellow soldiers.

Alexander can hardly believe it. He has nothing against Burr per se, but the man remains a riddle to him. He has always been polite, but distant. Willing to give advice when it’s requested but the advice is always the same, no matter who is asking- be cautious, and wait. It infuriates Alexander, that Burr can have all the freedom in the world to take whatever actions he wants, and yet he willfully holds himself back and lets others charge ahead instead of seizing opportunities himself.

Even more infuriating, though, is that Alexander has yet to find concrete evidence about Burr’s opinion of him. Men who speak openly and plainly about automatons are easy to categorize as either allies or enemies, but Burr speaks openly about nothing. He treats Alexander exactly like he treats anyone else, and Alexander has yet to figure out if Burr is hiding his hatred of the whole world or is truly indifferent to everything and everyone. He does not speak against Alexander- or indeed, against anyone else for that matter- but he also does not speak in defense of him.

Until now, it would seem.

The murmurs of the crowd almost drown out of the actual conversation that Hamilton cares about, but he manages to listen past the vague, or not-so-vague, threats of violence to hear Burr say, “You have not seen what he can do when truly enraged. His strength is far superior to that of any human. One blow is enough to crumple a man’s skull.”

Alexander raises an eyebrow at that. It’s not an exaggeration, but it’s also not a theory that Alexander has ever seen fit to test. Even when he punched the bursar of Princeton he had only cracked the man’s jaw- a fact that Burr must no doubt be aware of, since Alexander is well aware that the man had paid the bursar a visit to smooth any ruffled feathers.

As Burr keeps talking about Alexander’s seemingly indestructible body he realizes, with no small amount of delight, that Burr is purposefully trying to scare the men into backing down. Everything he is saying certainly sounds well within the realm of possibility, but it’s all gross exaggerations. Ones that Alexander is certainly in no rush to correct, but which work well for Burr’s purposes. The crowd of men slowly begin to disperse, faces pale with fright, until even the leader takes his leave and Burr is left standing alone.

When the last of the men finally disappear Alexander takes a step forward, wanting to speak with Burr about what he just saw. But to his surprise Burr ducks his head and starts laughing to himself, and Alexander pauses in confusion.

He can see Burr’s legs shaking, the way his hand trembles when rubs at his face. Did Burr seek out this confrontation for the thrill of it, or for his own amusement? That doesn’t quite match up with what Alexander knows of the man, but then again… how well does Alexander truly know Aaron Burr?

Alexander moves forward slowly, torn between wanting to speak with Burr and not wanting the other man to know that he was ever here. But when he’s perhaps a dozen paces in front of Burr the man finally looks up and sees Alexander standing there. He’s quick to mask any lingering traces of amusement, and Alexander is frustrated to find that it’s next to impossible to get any sort of read on what the man is thinking at having been caught like this.

It’s too late for him to leave without some acknowledge of the situation though, so Alexander finally breaks the silence between the two of them. “Thank you.”

“What?”

Alexander can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. So Burr is going to be like that then. Another pompous human, always wanting to remind the automaton of their place. “Seriously? You’re going to make me repeat myself?”

“That’s not what I-” Burr cuts himself off with a sigh of frustration and Alexander watches him warily, unsure of where this is going. He’s not expecting Burr to continue with, “I heard what you said. And honestly, no thanks are necessary. I only sought to keep the peace in camp, nothing more.”

Alexander stares at him, not even daring to blink for fear of missing some vital insight that will give him a better understanding of the human in front of him. Is Burr telling the truth? Did he really only do this for the sake of maintaining peace among the soldiers? Or is that simply another lie, since he has no problem telling exaggerations and half-truths if they’ll serve his purposes?

Alexander does not know, and that infuriates him more than he can say. He shakes his head and admits, “I will never understand you, Burr.” He only adds on the _sir_ as he brushes past, the only acquiescence to Burr’s rank that he will give.

He hears another sigh from Burr as he walks away but he doesn’t turn around, not even when he hears Burr say, “Well. That makes two of us then.”

If Burr is as confused by Alexander as he is of the human, then perhaps they’ll have some equal ground to stand on in the future. But for now, the automaton has no desire to keep dealing in riddles if he can help it.

**Author's Note:**

> Burr is a lot harder to write than I thought he would be! It's so weird, because his interactions with Hamilton (at least on the soundtrack- I don't know about the staging) are so limited in Act I that it's hard to get a read on *why* they become friends by the time Non-Stop happens. Even though he's as much of a "main character" as Hamilton himself is. 
> 
> So I'd imagine, within the context of this AU, Burr would just be more cautious in all of his dealings with Hamilton but ultimately support him- even if that was just quietly and secretly from the sidelines, so no one can accuse him of supporting one side or the other. (As opposed to Laurens, who would rather get into fights and settle things with his fists.)
> 
>  
> 
> _As an aside, how would people feel if I wrote some Lams stuff for this AU? I have a few stories already written but I've held off on posting them so far. And if I did post automaton!AU Lams, would you prefer to have them included in this series or in a separate series?_


End file.
